DATELINE: SESEN: Part Six - [Comm-Links](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/comm-links) - DATELINE: SESEN: Part Six DATELINE: SESEN: Part Six ========================= Undefined Undefined Dateline: Sesen [Previous](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/comm-links/13594) [Next](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/comm-links/13596) Content ------- English Is Sensationalism Getting in the Way of Real Reporting? Special: New United Exposé. Even song birds will peck our eyes out when their nest is threatened. Yadav didn’t have time to contemplate how she might be threatening anyone’s nest. The next moment the door flew inward, and the governor slipped through. “May I introduce a cabinet member and my close advisor, Wei Martinez,” the governor said, gesturing to the man behind her. Black, straight hair fell to Martinez’s shoulders, and a thin mustache perched over his lip like an oiled caterpillar. Upon entering, he made a point of smoothing and buttoning his suit jacket, which was well tailored. If he’d worn a tie, Yadav was sure he would have cinched it tight. Strapped to his belt was a holster carrying a kinetic sidearm. Yadav eyeballed the gun, wary. “I am Governor Tentopet Jones. And your ID codes say that you are …?” She and Martinez both crossed their arms expectantly. Yadav felt a bit like a young child in the principal’s office under Jones’ scrutiny. But Martinez’s countenance gave her graveyard chills. “I’m Ulla Yadav,” she said without hesitation, holding up her press tattoo. “Of New United.” Jones nodded, satisfied. “You landed illegally on our planet,” Martinez broke in. “No passes or permissions were given. Your ship was destroyed. When and how do you intend to vacate the system?” “Is that important?” Yadav asked His gaze narrowed. “Yes.” Their medical scans hadn’t even picked up on the beacon in her intestines. What century were these people living in? “Why don’t you just deport me?” she asked. “We don’t have the resources to waste,” Jones said smoothly. “Who knows you’re here?” Yadav carefully gauged the pitch and timber of Jones’ question. The answer was uncertain — maybe all of New United, maybe no one. It was impossible to tell if someone had picked up her trail yet or not, especially since she didn’t know how much time had passed since the crash. But that wasn’t important. Yadav had to tell them — especially this Martinez character — exactly what they needed to hear. “I have a contact out of system,” she said. “He’s got his ears open. He knows to alert the company if he doesn’t hear from me every forty-eight hours.” Martinez let out an aggravated, “Ha.” Whether it was because he didn’t believe her, or didn’t want to believe her, Yadav wasn’t sure. “Why is my colleague dead?” she blurted. Jones didn’t answer right away. She seemed to be searching for the right words. “We were unable to save him. I’m sorry. I don’t know how much you saw from the med shuttle, but we are not a well-to-do society. Our capabilities proved inadequate.” “But at first glance they didn’t appear inadequate,” Yadav said. She needed to get a feel for the political dynamics in play. Exactly what kind of a leader was this Ten-toe-pet Jones? “The city at the bottom of the hill is in shambles, but you tried to build something imposing and modern up here. Have a nice little private compound, don’t you?” Martinez looked as though he might lash out at any minute. Frustration wafted off of him like bad cologne. “What’s your point?” “You don’t seem to have a lot to work with, but you sure did your best to make it look like you’ve got deep pockets.” “It makes the public believe that prosperity is achievable,” Jones said. “If they knew the truth, that not even their government had wealth, they would despair.” Yadav openly scoffed. Warlords and pseudo-emperors loved their high towers and gilded palaces. Such compounds were displays of power meant to keep people in their place. They highlighted the massive gap between the oppressed and the oppressors. Made the public feel weak, incapable. It surprised Yadav that Jones would attempt to claim their compound as anything more than uprising insurance. The governor sat down across from the reporter and leaned in. “Wei and I are cousins,” she said, gesturing to Martinez, who rolled his eyes. “Where we come from originally, no one has money. No one appears to have money. This society might look impoverished to you, but you’ve never seen our home station. “Most of my childhood memories run together. One day was mostly like the next. But there was one that sticks out in my mind as a turning point — it’s the reason I chose to be a leader. The reason for these buildings. “There was this fence — well, more of a wall. It was made of rusty metal slats, and blocked off a dilapidated, toxic apartment. The chemical smell was horrendous — the place had been used to cook SLAM. Some kid had found a half-empty can of spray paint and covered the thing in vulgarities. The wall sat like that, a sickening eyesore in the heart of our rundown space station for years. Until some people chipped in to buy a few gallons of paint off a traveling salesman. As a community, we whitewashed that wall. Made it shine. “That wall made us believe things could get better. A silly, crappy faux wall that we made beautiful. The premise here is the same.” Jones sat back. “I am a public servant, Ms. Yadav, trying to increase the morale of my strained people. If I have to do a little hand waving, a little deceiving, to make them believe in improvement, I do it without hesitation.” Great, another politician with a sob story, toting civic duty like a Roman cross, Yadav thought. “What is your relationship with the pirates like?” The governor was quiet for a split second. “Tenuous.” “How are you protecting your people? Are you protecting your people?” “Our cannon worked well enough, didn’t it?” “But what else?” “You’ve got no reason to take up the governor’s time,” Martinez protested. “She doesn’t have to prove anything to you. We’re here to interrogate you, not the other way around.” Jones held up a placating hand. “Instead of an interrogation, how about a formal interview?” asked Yadav. “In the streets, amongst the people.” Maybe she would get to inspect those lean-tos after all. A subtle smile played over Jones lips, as though she’d been waiting for this chance. “If I show you our colony, will you do a story on it? Make us major news?” “If there’s something newsworthy happening on this planet, I’ll write about it,” Yadav replied slyly. “This isn’t a good idea,” Martinez said. “Get me someone who can remove her restraints,” Jones decided, ignoring his concern. “I’m taking our new friend for a walk.” Martinez bent close to Jones’ ear, laying a firm hand on her shoulder. Yadav noticed his knuckles strained against her jacket. “We’re going to regret this,” he said darkly. “You should have taken my initial recommendation.” “Thank you for your concern,” Jones said unemotionally. “But under the circumstances, I’ll be keeping my own counsel.” She gave him a meaningful look. “Fine,” he said, moving toward the door. “But a government’s number one concern must always be the protection of its people. Don’t let this newswoman make you think any different. Rosy PR means nothing if the people can’t produce.” Yadav wanted to assure him that the last thing he had to worry about was her interfering with their public relations, but staying quiet when necessary was just as important as shooting off the right questions at the right time. “Thank you,” Jones said again. “Please get me an escort, something to free her hands —” “And a change of clothes?” Yadav suggested. A hospital robe was hardly appropriate street wear. “And the spare suit from my office,” Jones added. Martinez opened his mouth to protest again, but Jones barked, “Go.” He nodded, suddenly gracious. Then he allowed his gaze to meet Yadav’s for a split second before he disappeared. Yadav felt like she’d just disturbed an ants’ nest and was waiting for the first of a thousand stings. to be continued … Kommt der Sensationismus der realen Berichterstattung in die Quere? Besonders: Neues United Exposé. Selbst Singvögel werden uns die Augen aushacken, wenn ihr Nest bedroht ist. Yadav hatte keine Zeit, darüber nachzudenken, wie sie das Nest von jemandem bedrohen könnte. Im nächsten Moment flog die Tür nach innen, und der Gouverneur schlüpfte durch. "Darf ich ein Kabinettsmitglied und meinen engen Berater Wei Martinez vorstellen", sagte der Gouverneur und sagte zu dem Mann hinter ihr. Schwarzes, glattes Haar fiel auf Martinez' Schultern, und ein dünner Schnurrbart saß über seiner Lippe wie eine geölte Raupe. Beim Betreten legte er Wert darauf, seine Anzugjacke zu glätten und zu knöpfen, die gut geschnitten war. Wenn er eine Krawatte getragen hätte, war sich Yadav sicher, dass er sie eng geschnallt hätte. An seinem Gürtel befestigt war ein Holster mit einem kinetischen Seitenarm. Yadav starrte die Waffe an, vorsichtig. "Ich bin Gouverneur Tentopet Jones. Und deine ID-Codes sagen, dass du....?" Sie und Martinez verschränkten beide erwartungsvoll die Arme. Yadav fühlte sich ein wenig wie ein kleines Kind im Büro des Rektors unter Jones' Aufsicht. Aber Martinez' Gesicht gab ihr auf dem Friedhof eine Gänsehaut. "Ich bin Ulla Yadav", sagte sie ohne zu zögern und hielt ihr Pressetattoo hoch. " Von New United." Jones nickte, zufrieden. "Du bist illegal auf unserem Planeten gelandet", brach Martinez ein. "Es wurden keine Pässe oder Genehmigungen erteilt. Dein Schiff wurde zerstört. Wann und wie wollen Sie das System verlassen?" "Ist das wichtig?" Yadav fragte Sein Blick verengte sich. " Ja." Ihre medizinischen Scans hatten nicht einmal das Leuchtfeuer in ihrem Darm erfasst. In welchem Jahrhundert lebten diese Menschen? "Warum deportiert ihr mich nicht einfach?", fragte sie. "Wir haben nicht die Ressourcen, um sie zu verschwenden", sagte Jones glatt. "Wer weiß, dass du hier bist?" Yadav überprüfte sorgfältig die Tonhöhe und das Holz von Jones' Frage. Die Antwort war ungewiss - vielleicht ganz New United, vielleicht niemand. Es war unmöglich zu sagen, ob jemand ihre Spur schon aufgenommen hatte oder nicht, zumal sie nicht wusste, wie viel Zeit seit dem Unfall vergangen war. Aber das war nicht wichtig. Yadav musste ihnen - vor allem diesem Martinez - genau das sagen, was sie hören wollten. "Ich habe einen Kontakt außerhalb des Systems", sagte sie. "Er hat die Ohren offen. Er weiß, wie er die Firma alarmiert, wenn er nicht alle 48 Stunden von mir hört." Martinez ließ ein verärgertes "Ha" aus. Ob es nun daran lag, dass er ihr nicht glaubte oder ihr nicht glauben wollte, Yadav war sich nicht sicher. "Warum ist mein Kollege tot?", tauchte sie auf. Jones antwortete nicht sofort. Sie schien nach den richtigen Worten zu suchen. "Wir konnten ihn nicht retten. Es tut mir leid. Ich weiß nicht, wie viel du vom Med Shuttle gesehen hast, aber wir sind keine wohlhabende Gesellschaft. Unsere Fähigkeiten erwiesen sich als unzureichend." "Aber auf den ersten Blick schienen sie nicht unzureichend", sagte Yadav. Sie musste ein Gefühl für die politische Dynamik im Spiel bekommen. Was für ein Anführer war dieser Jones mit zehn Zehenspitzen? "Die Stadt am Fuße des Hügels ist in Trümmern, aber du hast versucht, hier oben etwas imposantes und modernes zu bauen. Du hast eine schöne kleine private Anlage, nicht wahr?" Martinez sah aus, als könnte er jede Minute um sich schlagen. Frustration wehte von ihm ab wie schlechtes Parfüm. "Worauf willst du hinaus?" "Du scheinst nicht viel zu haben, mit dem du arbeiten kannst, aber du hast dein Bestes getan, damit es so aussieht, als hättest du tiefe Taschen." "Es macht die Öffentlichkeit glauben, dass Wohlstand erreichbar ist", sagte Jones. "Wenn sie die Wahrheit wüssten, dass nicht einmal ihre Regierung Vermögen hat, würden sie verzweifeln." Yadav spottete offen. Warlords und Pseudo-Kaiser liebten ihre hohen Türme und vergoldeten Paläste. Solche Verbindungen waren Machtdemonstrationen, die dazu dienten, die Menschen an ihrem Platz zu halten. Sie betonten die massive Kluft zwischen den Unterdrückten und den Unterdrückern. Das hat dazu geführt, dass sich die Öffentlichkeit schwach und unfähig fühlte. Es überraschte Yadav, dass Jones versuchen würde, ihre Verbindung als etwas anderes als eine Aufstandsversicherung einzustufen. Der Gouverneur setzte sich gegenüber dem Reporter hin und lehnte sich hinein. "Wei und ich sind Cousins", sagte sie und winkte zu Martinez, der die Augen verdrehte. "Wo wir ursprünglich herkommen, hat niemand Geld. Niemand scheint Geld zu haben. Diese Gesellschaft mag für dich verarmt erscheinen, aber du hast noch nie unsere Wohnungsstation gesehen. "Die meisten meiner Kindheitserinnerungen laufen zusammen. Ein Tag war meistens wie der nächste. Aber es gab einen, der mir als Wendepunkt in Erinnerung bleibt - das ist der Grund, warum ich mich entschieden habe, ein Leiter zu sein. Der Grund für diese Gebäude. "Da war dieser Zaun - nun, eher eine Mauer. Es war aus rostigen Metallstäben gefertigt und blockierte eine verfallene, giftige Wohnung. Der chemische Geruch war schrecklich - der Ort wurde zum Kochen von SLAM genutzt. Ein Kind hatte eine halb leere Dose Sprühfarbe gefunden und das Ding mit Vulgaritäten bedeckt. Die Wand saß so, ein ekelhafter Schandfleck im Herzen unserer heruntergekommenen Raumstation über Jahre hinweg. Bis einige Leute eincheckten, um ein paar Gallonen Farbe von einem reisenden Verkäufer zu kaufen. Als Gemeinschaft haben wir diese Mauer weiß getüncht. Lässt es leuchten. "Diese Mauer ließ uns glauben, dass die Dinge besser werden könnten. Eine dumme, beschissene unechte Wand, die wir schön gemacht haben. Die Prämisse hier ist die gleiche." Jones lehnte sich zurück. "Ich bin eine Beamtin, Frau Yadav, die versucht, die Moral meines angespannten Volkes zu verbessern. Wenn ich ein wenig mit der Hand winkend, ein wenig betrügend tun muss, damit sie an Verbesserung glauben, dann tue ich es ohne zu zögern." Großartig, ein weiterer Politiker mit einer schluchzenden Geschichte, der die Bürgerpflicht wie ein römisches Kreuz behandelt, dachte Yadav. "Wie ist dein Verhältnis zu den Piraten?" Der Gouverneur war für einen Bruchteil einer Sekunde still. " Schwach." "Wie beschützt du dein Volk? Schützt du dein Volk?" "Unsere Kanone hat gut genug funktioniert, nicht wahr?" "Aber was noch?" "Du hast keinen Grund, die Zeit des Gouverneurs zu nutzen", protestierte Martinez. "Sie muss dir nichts beweisen. Wir sind hier, um Sie zu verhören, nicht umgekehrt." Jones hielt eine beschwichtigende Hand hoch. "Anstelle eines Verhörs, wie wäre es mit einem formalen Interview?" fragte Yadav. "Auf der Straße, unter den Menschen." Vielleicht würde sie diese Lean-Tos doch noch inspizieren können. Ein subtiles Lächeln spielte über Jones Lippen, als hätte sie auf diese Chance gewartet. "Wenn ich dir unsere Kolonie zeige, wirst du dann eine Geschichte darüber schreiben? Machst du uns wichtige Neuigkeiten?" "Wenn auf diesem Planeten etwas berichtenswertes passiert, werde ich darüber schreiben", antwortete Yadav heimlich. "Das ist keine gute Idee", sagte Martinez. "Besorg mir jemanden, der ihre Fesseln entfernen kann", entschied Jones und ignorierte seine Bedenken. "Ich gehe mit unserem neuen Freund spazieren." Martinez beugte sich nahe an Jones' Ohr und legte eine feste Hand auf ihre Schulter. Yadav bemerkte, dass sich seine Knöchel gegen ihre Jacke spannten. "Wir werden das bereuen", sagte er dunkel. "Du hättest meine erste Empfehlung befolgen sollen." "Danke für deine Sorge", sagte Jones emotionslos. "Aber unter diesen Umständen werde ich meinen eigenen Anwalt behalten." Sie gab ihm einen aussagekräftigen Blick. "Gut", sagte er und ging auf die Tür zu. "Aber das wichtigste Anliegen einer Regierung muss immer der Schutz ihres Volkes sein. Lass dich von dieser Nachrichtensprecherin nicht dazu bringen, anders zu denken. Rosy PR bedeutet nichts, wenn die Leute nicht produzieren können." Yadav wollte ihm versichern, dass das Letzte, worüber er sich Sorgen machen musste, ihre Einmischung in die Öffentlichkeitsarbeit war, aber ruhig zu bleiben, wenn es nötig war, war genauso wichtig wie die richtigen Fragen zur richtigen Zeit abzuschiessen. "Danke", sagte Jones noch einmal. "Bitte besorg mir eine Eskorte, etwas, um ihre Hände zu befreien -" "Und ein Kleiderwechsel?" schlug Yadav vor. Ein Krankenhausgewand war kaum geeignet für Straßenkleidung. "Und den Ersatzanzug aus meinem Büro", fügte Jones hinzu. Martinez öffnete seinen Mund, um wieder zu protestieren, aber Jones bellte, "Los". Er nickte, plötzlich gnädig. Dann ließ er seinen Blick für einen Bruchteil einer Sekunde auf Yadavs treffen, bevor er verschwand. Yadav fühlte sich, als hätte sie gerade ein Ameisennest gestört und wartete auf den ersten von tausend Stichen. wird fortgesetzt..... Is Sensationalism Getting in the Way of Real Reporting? Special: New United Exposé. Even song birds will peck our eyes out when their nest is threatened. Yadav didn’t have time to contemplate how she might be threatening anyone’s nest. The next moment the door flew inward, and the governor slipped through. “May I introduce a cabinet member and my close advisor, Wei Martinez,” the governor said, gesturing to the man behind her. Black, straight hair fell to Martinez’s shoulders, and a thin mustache perched over his lip like an oiled caterpillar. Upon entering, he made a point of smoothing and buttoning his suit jacket, which was well tailored. If he’d worn a tie, Yadav was sure he would have cinched it tight. Strapped to his belt was a holster carrying a kinetic sidearm. Yadav eyeballed the gun, wary. “I am Governor Tentopet Jones. And your ID codes say that you are …?” She and Martinez both crossed their arms expectantly. Yadav felt a bit like a young child in the principal’s office under Jones’ scrutiny. But Martinez’s countenance gave her graveyard chills. “I’m Ulla Yadav,” she said without hesitation, holding up her press tattoo. “Of New United.” Jones nodded, satisfied. “You landed illegally on our planet,” Martinez broke in. “No passes or permissions were given. Your ship was destroyed. When and how do you intend to vacate the system?” “Is that important?” Yadav asked His gaze narrowed. “Yes.” Their medical scans hadn’t even picked up on the beacon in her intestines. What century were these people living in? “Why don’t you just deport me?” she asked. “We don’t have the resources to waste,” Jones said smoothly. “Who knows you’re here?” Yadav carefully gauged the pitch and timber of Jones’ question. The answer was uncertain — maybe all of New United, maybe no one. It was impossible to tell if someone had picked up her trail yet or not, especially since she didn’t know how much time had passed since the crash. But that wasn’t important. Yadav had to tell them — especially this Martinez character — exactly what they needed to hear. “I have a contact out of system,” she said. “He’s got his ears open. He knows to alert the company if he doesn’t hear from me every forty-eight hours.” Martinez let out an aggravated, “Ha.” Whether it was because he didn’t believe her, or didn’t want to believe her, Yadav wasn’t sure. “Why is my colleague dead?” she blurted. Jones didn’t answer right away. She seemed to be searching for the right words. “We were unable to save him. I’m sorry. I don’t know how much you saw from the med shuttle, but we are not a well-to-do society. Our capabilities proved inadequate.” “But at first glance they didn’t appear inadequate,” Yadav said. She needed to get a feel for the political dynamics in play. Exactly what kind of a leader was this Ten-toe-pet Jones? “The city at the bottom of the hill is in shambles, but you tried to build something imposing and modern up here. Have a nice little private compound, don’t you?” Martinez looked as though he might lash out at any minute. Frustration wafted off of him like bad cologne. “What’s your point?” “You don’t seem to have a lot to work with, but you sure did your best to make it look like you’ve got deep pockets.” “It makes the public believe that prosperity is achievable,” Jones said. “If they knew the truth, that not even their government had wealth, they would despair.” Yadav openly scoffed. Warlords and pseudo-emperors loved their high towers and gilded palaces. Such compounds were displays of power meant to keep people in their place. They highlighted the massive gap between the oppressed and the oppressors. Made the public feel weak, incapable. It surprised Yadav that Jones would attempt to claim their compound as anything more than uprising insurance. The governor sat down across from the reporter and leaned in. “Wei and I are cousins,” she said, gesturing to Martinez, who rolled his eyes. “Where we come from originally, no one has money. No one appears to have money. This society might look impoverished to you, but you’ve never seen our home station. “Most of my childhood memories run together. One day was mostly like the next. But there was one that sticks out in my mind as a turning point — it’s the reason I chose to be a leader. The reason for these buildings. “There was this fence — well, more of a wall. It was made of rusty metal slats, and blocked off a dilapidated, toxic apartment. The chemical smell was horrendous — the place had been used to cook SLAM. Some kid had found a half-empty can of spray paint and covered the thing in vulgarities. The wall sat like that, a sickening eyesore in the heart of our rundown space station for years. Until some people chipped in to buy a few gallons of paint off a traveling salesman. As a community, we whitewashed that wall. Made it shine. “That wall made us believe things could get better. A silly, crappy faux wall that we made beautiful. The premise here is the same.” Jones sat back. “I am a public servant, Ms. Yadav, trying to increase the morale of my strained people. If I have to do a little hand waving, a little deceiving, to make them believe in improvement, I do it without hesitation.” Great, another politician with a sob story, toting civic duty like a Roman cross, Yadav thought. “What is your relationship with the pirates like?” The governor was quiet for a split second. “Tenuous.” “How are you protecting your people? Are you protecting your people?” “Our cannon worked well enough, didn’t it?” “But what else?” “You’ve got no reason to take up the governor’s time,” Martinez protested. “She doesn’t have to prove anything to you. We’re here to interrogate you, not the other way around.” Jones held up a placating hand. “Instead of an interrogation, how about a formal interview?” asked Yadav. “In the streets, amongst the people.” Maybe she would get to inspect those lean-tos after all. A subtle smile played over Jones lips, as though she’d been waiting for this chance. “If I show you our colony, will you do a story on it? Make us major news?” “If there’s something newsworthy happening on this planet, I’ll write about it,” Yadav replied slyly. “This isn’t a good idea,” Martinez said. “Get me someone who can remove her restraints,” Jones decided, ignoring his concern. “I’m taking our new friend for a walk.” Martinez bent close to Jones’ ear, laying a firm hand on her shoulder. Yadav noticed his knuckles strained against her jacket. “We’re going to regret this,” he said darkly. “You should have taken my initial recommendation.” “Thank you for your concern,” Jones said unemotionally. “But under the circumstances, I’ll be keeping my own counsel.” She gave him a meaningful look. “Fine,” he said, moving toward the door. “But a government’s number one concern must always be the protection of its people. Don’t let this newswoman make you think any different. Rosy PR means nothing if the people can’t produce.” Yadav wanted to assure him that the last thing he had to worry about was her interfering with their public relations, but staying quiet when necessary was just as important as shooting off the right questions at the right time. “Thank you,” Jones said again. “Please get me an escort, something to free her hands —” “And a change of clothes?” Yadav suggested. A hospital robe was hardly appropriate street wear. “And the spare suit from my office,” Jones added. Martinez opened his mouth to protest again, but Jones barked, “Go.” He nodded, suddenly gracious. Then he allowed his gaze to meet Yadav’s for a split second before he disappeared. Yadav felt like she’d just disturbed an ants’ nest and was waiting for the first of a thousand stings. to be continued … Links ----- No links available. Images ------ 1 image/jpeg [ ![](https://robertsspaceindustries.com/media/x3l6h1jdbgno8r/source/DatelineSesenFI3.jpg) ](https://robertsspaceindustries.com/media/x3l6h1jdbgno8r/source/DatelineSesenFI3.jpg) DatelineSesenFI3.jpg [Details](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/comm-links/images/1292) Last Modified 12 years ago Size 1.52 MB [Source](https://robertsspaceindustries.com/media/x3l6h1jdbgno8r/source/DatelineSesenFI3.jpg) [Info](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/comm-links/images/1292) Metadata -------- CIG ID 13595 Channel Undefined Category Undefined Series Dateline: Sesen Comments 53 Published 12 years ago (2014-03-07T00:00:00+00:00) [RSI Article](https://robertsspaceindustries.com/comm-link/serialized-fiction/13595-DATELINE-SESEN-Part-Six) [API](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/api/comm-links/13595)